The Seven Deadly Kisses
by A Bullfrog's Worst Nightmare
Summary: Theodore Nott has been kissed seven times, each one leaving him feeling bitter and worthless. -Discontinued-


**A/N: This is written for the Seven Kisses challenge from the HPFC forum. I've decided to match each of the kisses up with one of the seven deadly sins to make it a little more interesting. :/ There will be seven chapters in all. I know one of the genres is marked 'romance' but that's for later chapters. Thanks so much reading and feel free to leave your opinions!**

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_Wrath_

The Nott family lived in an ancient house on top of a hill overlooking a simple muggle town. The grass had grown long and turned brown from lack of care. Weeds loomed out of Mrs. Nott's once beautiful garden. The house itself was falling apart at the hinges. Paint was chipping and bits of wood were being whittled away.

The distressed little house, as ugly as it was, was home to a small boy. The boy was a weedy looking child and was so skinny, none of his clothes seemed to fit him. From a very young age, he learned that it's best to keep your nose out of other people's business, especially Mr. Nott's business.

Neither the boy nor his mother knew exactly what the man did while cooped up in his daft study. Sometimes the noises that came from within the study interested the boy and he was curious to know what his father could be doing in there that would make that much racket. Though, every time he put his hand on the doorknob of the study, his mother would come out of no where, it seemed, and scold him.

"Theodore, would you like it if your father just barged into your room to see what you were doing? Would you like it if he tried to snoop around in your stuff? Well, boy? Would you?" Mrs. Nott always said those exact words to Theodore. She's repeated them so much that he could still hear her tired voice saying them in his head years later.

She always punctuated those words with a light kiss on his forehead before she shooed him away. It was the only time Mrs. Nott would ever kiss her son.

At first, Theodore thought nothing of the scarce kisses she placed on his forehead. That is until one day when he was roaming around aimlessly around the muggle town with once again, nothing to do. There, the muggle mothers kissed their sons all the time. Not only that, but the children there acted as if a kiss from their mother was no big deal!

Maybe, Theodore thought, it was just another strange muggle tradition.

That very same day, eight year old Theodore came home to a seemingly empty house. The only sound that echoed through the house was the boy's own gentle footsteps against the dusty hardwood floors of the main hallway. Most children his age probably would be frantic to find out their parents had left them alone, but not Theodore. Though if he did know why it was so quiet at the time, he would have wished he was alone.

His father's study was at the very end of the hallway and the tall, thick double doors were wide open, practically inviting Theodore inside. He slowly moved towards the open doors, only intending to peer inside and nothing more. When he reached the doorway, he was half expecting his mother to run over and tell him not to look. Yet, she never came.

The study itself was just as old and mangled looking as the rest of the house. Books were carelessly thrown around, the windows were covered with dirt and grime, and hundreds of cobwebs were spun along the ceiling. A large, maroon armchair was in the very center of the room, the back of it facing the door. There was a slender, white arm limply hanging off the side of it.

At first, Theodore thought it was his father's arm and was about to turn and leave. Then he realized it looked too delicate to be Mr. Nott's arm. Cautiously, Theodore walked into the room and towards the armchair.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw his mother's lifeless eyes staring up at him, wide with surprise. Theodore couldn't breath, couldn't move, and an aching in his chest started to form. Mrs. Nott's complexion was a sickly pale color and her mouth was hanging open slightly. An old leather book was held tightly in the hand that was not over the edge of the chair.

Theodore was about just about to run out of the room and get help from somebody, anybody, when he heard a low chuckling from the opposite corner of the door. A strong, firm hand gripped his shoulder and roughly turned him around to face hand's owner.

He found himself staring up at the hard face of his father. His sleeves were rolled up so Theodore could make out the long faded shape on his father's left arm. A black skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth.

"She betrayed me, would you?" his father asked in a smooth voice. "Would you like to feel my wrath?"

Theodore violently shook his head, shaking with fear under his father's grip. A thin cold smile formed on Mr. Nott's face and he removed his hand from the boy's shoulder.

"Good. Then you will exit the room and pretend that you saw nothing, yes?" Theodore nodded obediently and did just that.

The late Mrs. Nott had a funeral a week later on a cold rainy day. Only a few people bothered to show up and Theodore hardly knew any of them. No one talked to the boy or even glanced at him. It was as if he wasn't there, as if he didn't exist.

Theodore had never been to a funeral before but he was pretty sure the guests were supposed to be more upset about the death than the guests at this funeral were. There was no crying nor any depressed faces. It seemed like no one was even paying attention to anything that was going on and they left as quickly as they could once the funeral was over.

Mrs. Nott's mother hobbled over to him using her cane and patted him gently on the head.

"Death is something children shouldn't have to see," she said, her face completely emotionless and she too left with the group.

The boy stood alone on top of the hill, wondering what was the reason his father had to take his mother away from him without even a kiss goodbye.


End file.
